


Five Times Sam and Daniel Had (Mostly) Unresolved Sexual Tension

by dizzy



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-19
Updated: 2009-11-19
Packaged: 2017-10-03 10:07:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you, <a href="http://thraesja.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://thraesja.livejournal.com/"><b>thraesja</b></a>, for beta reading! Without you my commas would be horribly placed. <3</p>
    </blockquote>





	Five Times Sam and Daniel Had (Mostly) Unresolved Sexual Tension

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, [](http://thraesja.livejournal.com/profile)[**thraesja**](http://thraesja.livejournal.com/), for beta reading! Without you my commas would be horribly placed. &lt;3

**I. That time that Sam had to sit on Daniel's lap for an hour.**

Sam notices two things right away.

Number One is that it's been entirely too long since she's had any prolonged contact with a man.

Number Two is that Daniel has definitely been working out.

Neither of these are exactly groundbreaking knowledge, but both of them have somehow managed to slip her mind for the past, oh, say, year or so.

"Okay there?" Daniel asks her, his arm tightening around her waist as if she might be in danger of falling off of his lap.

"Fine," she says between gritted teeth.

"Hey, these people were nice enough to give us a ride. It's not like we can complain that they don't have a big enough car," Daniel points out. Car is a bit of a stretch for the carriage they're in, but it did save them an hour's hike back to their camp site.

Jack is beside them looking pointedly away. She feels a stab of guilt then an even deeper stab of anger that he can somehow manage to evoke guilt out of her when she's doing absolutely nothing wrong. Sitting on Daniel's lap is awkward; sitting on the lap of her CO would be pushing all sorts of boundaries that they decided best were left unpushed years ago.

Daniel loosens his grip on her. His hand comes to rest on her thigh and she's reminded of Number One again. She's about to give him a disgruntled glare when she sees that he's grinning at her. Somehow the fact that he's baiting her makes it better and instead of genuinely glaring she just makes a face. He laughs and a foot away from them, Jack's mouth flattens into a harsh line. Daniel either doesn't see or doesn't care.

 

**II. That time that they decided to go for a swim off-world.**

She's really never been attracted to Daniel before.

Really.

Until they decide to go for a dip in the stream to wash the caked mud off of themselves. Sam does a quick test for contagions in the water and then they're stripping down - Sam to her tank top and shorts, Daniel in just his shorts.

He wades in until he's knee-deep, bending to scrub at the dirt and grime on his ankles and when he stands up she's almost physically jarred by the sight of golden skin and muscles. When, exactly, had Daniel found the time to cultivate a tan and _muscles_?

"What?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

"You're hot." She grins, wide and impish.

A few years ago, that might have thrown him. He might have stumbled or scrunched his face up in confusion or just denied it. Now his shoulders straighten and he flashes her a smile. "Not so bad yourself there, Sam."

She reacts nonverbally, raising her arms above her head and stretching. She knows exactly which parts of her body this exaggerates and emphasizes. By the time she lowers her arms and rolls her shoulders and glances over at him he isn't still watching her but she can tell from the smirk on his face that he had been.

 

**III. That time they had to shower together.**

"So how long do you think it'll take Jack to bust us out of here?" Daniel asks, settling on the floor beside Sam with their backs to the wall.

Teal'c is across the room, either deep in a state of Kel'no'reem or pretending he is. (Personally, Sam thinks he's just getting good at pretending because he's tired of Daniel's attempts at drawing him into conversation. Surely no Jaffa needs to Kel'no'reem _that_ often.)

It isn't the first time SG-1 has been taken prisoner. In fact, as far as incarcerations go, this isn't even one of the worse ones. They are all in the same cell, Sam and Daniel and Teal'c, with their own beds and a blanket each. They get fed twice a day and the meals are actually edible and decent portions. They're even allowed to shower, which in theory is great, but in practice proved to be… something else.

The prison is fairly small. Sam would be surprised if the number of occupants exceeded forty, with a maximum of four people in each cell.

The showers were communal.

Each cell was taken in turn to a small room with four showerheads and given what Sam reckoned was about eight minutes to scrub down.

Teal'c had dealt with the situation in his typical matter of fact way, stripping down and turning his back to them. Sam tried to copy his attitude, to act like this was nothing.

But Daniel.

Naked.

She'd tried not to look. She'd managed to keep her eyes averted for at least the first minute and fifteen seconds. But she glanced the wrong way at the wrong time just once and gotten an eyeful that she wasn't likely to forget any time soon.

Daniel. Naked.

Tanned skin, his chest a little bit lighter than his arms but not much, smooth with brown little nipples, flat muscled stomach.

Just thinking about it makes her mouth go dry.

She isn't a saint; she'd looked lower, too. His cock laying against his thigh, looking fairly innocent and not hard at all but still enough to make her throb between the legs.

Her curiosity had been satisfied after that for all of two minutes before she looked again. This time she'd found him looking back at her, his eyes narrowed with concentration. Concentrating on… her. Watching her. Her body, wet all over with the tepid water pouring from the showerheads, her nipples hard from thinking about him thinking about her, was on display for him.

When he realized he'd been caught staring he cleared his throat and looked away, embarrassed. Sam turned, too, but not before she saw his cock looking a little thicker than it had before.

Now he sits beside her, hands clasped across his knees.

Her hair is still slightly damp and she runs her fingers through it, wiping the excess moisture on her shirt. "Wish they'd give us clean clothes." She frowns.

"I think we're supposed to wash our clothes while we're in there," he says, almost absently as he works through it in his mind. "I've been watching the other groups come back and they're usually wearing damp clothes."

"Oh." Sam looks away. "Hmm."

"We can do that, uh. Tomorrow. If we're still here to uh… shower again."

She almost smiles at his discomfort. She risks a look at him, lets him see that she's smiling, and he relaxes. Their eyes meet and there's something warmer there. She wishes he'd sat down closer to her so she could feel his arm and thigh against her, and thinks about scooting over herself. In the end, she doesn't, just nods and says, "Yeah."

"Right. I'm just gonna go check on Teal'c." Daniel puts a hand on her shoulder briefly and squeezes before he stands up.

 

**IV. That time they wrestled.**

It's not uncommon for them to work out together these days. They're close, maybe even closer than Daniel and Jack are; certainly closer than Sam and Jack. He knows the times she regularly haunts the gym on base and more often than not he'll show up around then.

The conversation is a welcome distraction. It makes the time go by faster and she spends less time concentrating on the ache in her muscles, gets more done and feels better for it later.

But once in a while there's an unwelcome distraction, too. An awareness of him on a different level. Sometimes she looks over at him and she loses track of what she's saying. He's so… _different_ now, so… strong, muscular arms, sweaty shining skin, eyes closed as he focuses on what he's doing…

She has to shake herself to jar the thoughts way.

He's grinning at her and she realizes that he's realizing she hasn't been listening to him. She flushes but hopes he doesn't notice since her face was probably already red from exertion. He's in a playful mood today.

He moves off of the stationary bicycle that he's been on and crosses the room to her. "Hey, Sam."

"Yeah?" She stares straight ahead, her arms working harder to lift weights over her head.

He stands behind her - close, way too close - and runs his hands up her outstretched arms until he can grasp the weights and tug them down. His breath is on the side of her face. "Challenge you to a wrestling match."

She swallows and then nods. She can take him; he's learning but she's _trained_ for this. He knows this, too, but once in a while he likes to try anyway.

They move over to the mats. They start with little ceremony. She almost groans the first time he wraps himself around her. She's reacting, her body letting her know in all kinds of ways how much it approves.

Five minutes in and he pins her down.

She lets him… for a few seconds. Then she shifts her weight, twists around, and his back thuds against the ground. She straddles him, and-

Whoa.

She's panting for breath, leaning over him. Her pelvis is flush against his and her palms are flat on the ground, on either side of his neck. She's leaning over him, her chest not even inches from his.

He's hard. He's hard and she's so, so wet. In a moment of weakness, of stupid spontaneity, she_ rubs_ against him. Sharp little shards of pleasure run through her and underneath her, he groans. His hands come up to grasp at her waist and he looks confused and frustrated and so turned on that she wants to do it again.

The klaxons sound and she rolls off of him.

 

**V. That time they... danced.**

Dancing. They're supposed to be dancing. This is supposed to be a normal night out; drinks, friends having drinks. Only Teal'c bowed out yesterday and the Colonel bailed after two beers and now it's just Sam and Daniel and this thing that they're doing that isn't dancing.

Maybe it started out as dancing. There was definitely music at some point, bleeding out though the windows of the bar. And there was them moving while the music played. Dancing, right? Only not, because she's never danced like this before.

Daniel's hands are tight on her waist and his thigh is between her legs and she's rocking into it. One of his hands is under her shirt against the small of her back, his fingertips edging down the back of her pants to brush against her ass.

"You… that's doing something for you, isn't it?" Daniel grins in that way that's almost accidental, like he just can't quite help but look smug because, yeah, this is definitely doing something for her. Her teeth sink down into her bottom lip and she tries not to move into him.

"And you're so unaffected?" She winces at the way she's kind of breathless already. She's not the kind of girl that gets swept off of her feet, not normally, but this is dangerous and unexpected and she's a little bit drunk on vodka and this unfamiliar ground.

"Oh, Sam." His face presses against the curve of her neck. "I am many things right now but unaffected is so very much not one of them. Check for yourself."

She doesn't really need to. She shivers a little when she feels it twitch underneath her touch, firm and radiating warmth through his pants.

She stiffens when she feels his fingers slip beneath the waistband of her own pants. "Hey," he says. "Turnabout is fair play, right?"

Well. She can't exactly deny that. So she lets out an encouraging little noise as his fingers slip down into wetness and warmth and slick skin, her hips jerking when he grazes over just the right spot. Her mouth opens wordlessly and a breath huffs out against his neck.

He takes his hand away and she almost whimpers but they're still standing in the back alley outside of a club and they're still employees of the government and representatives of potentially the most historical program ever to exist and as much as they may want to, they aren't going to fuck against a dirty wall.

His hand curves down over her ass and pulls her against him, rubbing his erection against her hip. She arches up and into the feeling, lifting one leg to hook her ankle around his calf. He adjusts himself so that he's rubbing against her in just the right spot. God, it's been too long, and that feels _good_.

Okay. Maybe they won't fuck here, but a little dry humping never killed anyone.


End file.
